


False Memories

by Sebastina_Michaelis



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:25:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sebastina_Michaelis/pseuds/Sebastina_Michaelis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian looses that which was most precious to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Memories

            Pain ripped through my torso as I weakly struggled into a sitting position. Blood spilled from the deep gash located there and spilled out, staining my shirt and the floor crimson. Insane laughter echoed around the cavernous room, but I was having a hard time pinpointing exactally where it was coming from; my senses drastically dulled from blood loss. _Young master, why don’t you call me to your side?_

            Rising onto shaky legs, I leaned heavily against the nearby marble pillar, clutching my abdomen in hope of slightly quelling the flow of blood. I could feel my body slowly trying to begin the long struggle of healing itself, but it wasn’t doing much good; it was too little too late.

            Taking a deep, shaky breath I tried to calm my frayed nerves and once again attempted to locate my young master, but to no avail. For quite some time now I had failed to be able to sense the little brat anywhere. I just couldn’t figure out if it was from _him_ putting up some sort of barrier or I was just too weak in my present state to be able to do it.

            Slowly putting one foot in front of the other, I made small, unsteady steps towards the main staircase, leaving a trail of blood in my wake. My knees finally gave out just as _he_ appeared at the top of the stairs with my young master in his arms. One bony hand cradled _my_ master’s face while the other was wrapped around his slender waist. A wide grin plastered itself across his face as grey hair drifted out of place to cover his eyes. As I struggled to get to my feet once again, I felt my teeth grow sharper and let out a low growl while allowing my eyes to return to their natural pink color. “Keep your hands off _my_ young master.”

            The shinigami that stood before me seemed more unhinged than he normally was and laughed manically while something sinister lurked in the depths of his yellow-green eyes. “Death is such a beautiful thing, too bad it’s so final.”

            I refused to respond as I took another few steps forward, mostly because I didn’t want to waste the effort on the usual banter. Gazing up at my master, I silently inquired why he was doing nothing other than stand there.

            Even right now with him standing right before me I felt nothing; not a single echo of the presence belonging to the soul that I so painstakingly cultivated and lusted after. His one uncovered, and seemingly glazed over eye held no emotion of unvoiced intentions like they normally did; just a solitary reflection of me staring up at him while slowly bleeding out.

            Advancing once again he added, “It’s a shame you don’t feel the same way, you could have joined me.”

            Another step forward, but now something had changed. As my body grew numb and my vision dimmed ever so slightly, I could smell more blood that wasn’t my own. It was human…barely human. Looking to my master once again I intently studied him for any sign of external injury, but there was none. I could still faintly heat his heart beating behind its protective wall of bone.

            Barely able to support my weight, I rested against the nearby marble banister. Undertaker ran a long black nail down the side of my master’s face, taunting me. “He was always like a doll, the little earl. He looks the same as when he was little, he’s hardly grown too.”

            My vision blurred as I slowly sank to the floor, trying to focus on something other than the urge to give into the creeping darkness that threatened to overcome me, while my instincts were just screaming for me to get out of here while I had the chance. “What…did you…do to… _my_ young master!?”

            More insane laughter filled the room as everything became blurry and out of focus, “I made him beautiful again.”

            Glancing up as the experienced reaper produced his death scythe. I barely registered a flash of gray when my master showed me his face whole face for the last time. Rage quickly replaced my sudden urge to die as I took in the heavily distorted image, _it can’t be! His soul was_ mine…


End file.
